


Keep Busy (or tear yourself apart)

by kidcarma



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Character Study, Gen, Hotels, Hurt/Comfort, Insomnia, Late Night Conversations, Platonic Relationships, Reminiscing, Smoking, Walks On The Beach, coping with the guilt of your past actions 101
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:47:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27617183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kidcarma/pseuds/kidcarma
Summary: “I used to memorize their names,” she laments. If he squints, Hinata thinks he can see a sad smile cast across her face. “My subjects. I spent hours poring over each and every one, committing them to memory. That way, I could feel an even greater despair when I killed them, as though I had lost a close friend.”“Jesus,” Hinata breathes. “Sonia, that’s-““Horrible?”
Relationships: Hinata Hajime & Sonia Nevermind
Comments: 5
Kudos: 50





	Keep Busy (or tear yourself apart)

**Author's Note:**

> this some kind of au... idk what kind but mostly it was an exercise in writing a short piece around the dialogue i had come up with, and have used as the summary

It’s ironic, in that sort of terrible way. 

That business brings them here, to a city on the coast. Even tucked into their shared hotel room a few floors up, the sound of the crashing waves still reaches Hinata’s ears, keeping him away from sleep. 

He lets out another frustrated groan, tossing and turning a final time on the couch, before giving up on rest and lifting himself to sit. 

At least the others are unbothered by it. That’s how it looks, anyway, when his eyes drift across the room to the two beds pressed against the far wall. Sonia and Owari are resting peacefully in the one on the right, Kuzuryu, Kazuichi, and Komaeda crammed into the one on the left. That’s certainly a sight of disarray- half of Komaeda’s limbs dangling off the bed and yet he’s somehow managed to hog the blanket.

It’s because he runs cold. 

None of them stir though, continuing to remain unperturbed as Hinata kicks the threadbare blanket off of himself and moves to stand. He makes it across the room, taking the room key card into his hand, tugging his hoodie on over his head, and he’s halfway through jamming his feet into his sneakers when he hears the rustle of sheets behind him, his head whipping around reflexively. 

“Going somewhere?” Sonia whispers, ever politely. She appears much too lucid for someone just waking up, and fleetingly Hinata swears at himself. Guesses he’s not the only one haunted by the sound of waves crashing against the shore. 

“Uh, yeah.”

“Mind if I join?” She’s already slid out of bed, reaching for a jacket to tug over her body. 

“No, s’fine with me.”

They don’t speak after that. Not until they’ve passed through the empty 3am halls of the hotel, and made it onto the boardwalk. It’s brighter than he’d prefer, the flashing lights of businesses still open, a handful of other wandering souls walking about at the ungodly hour, makes Hinata feel a little less bizarre for it. But still, not enough to drown out the sound of the ocean, now that they’re closer to it. The sea salt breeze cuts right through his hoodie, and he frowns, wishing he had thought this through a bit better. 

“There are a lot of hotels around here,” Sonia observes, breaking the silence. Hinata already knows it to be true, but he follows her line of vision just to see what she’s referring to. “Casinos too, it looks like.”

“Yeah,” Hinata’s eyes trace the city skyline. “It used to be a tourist trap. Well, still is, I guess. Not as lucrative anymore, though.” 

The reason why remains unspoken between them. They both know. Know they’ve had a hand in it. 

“Makes sense, that they’d want to rebuild places like this first,” Sonia tilts her head. “Profit is important, I suppose.”

“Yeah,” Hinata grimaces. “Profit before people, even in the apocalypse.” 

His gaze stretches skyward. The buildings are too tall. He feels sick. 

“Cmon.”

He veers off toward the nearest path to the beach, not bothering to look if she’s following.   
The way his shoes sink into the sand makes his legs feel like lead, aching in protest with every step, but every step puts him further and further away from the ghost of a city he knows he’s partially responsible for ruining, and that’s good enough, even when he’s barreling headfirst into memories of Jabberwock instead. 

There are, at least, a few moments of solace he can recall from that place. It had been nicer than this beach, too. Though all of that gets drowned out by the roaring in his ears, and the way his hands tremble. 

He shoves them into his pocket. Pulls out the pack of cigarettes he’d guiltily stored in there earlier, along with a lighter. 

Takes a few tries to get it to light, forces him to still the shaking of his hands, and by the time he’s managed it, Sonia has caught up to him, walking side by side. 

“I didn’t know you smoked.”

“I don’t,” Hinata sighs, bringing the cigarette up to his lips. He wishes that could be the end of it, but he sees her coaxing expression in his peripheral through the cloud of smoke, and knows that she’s going to pry an explanation from him. “I just- I need something to do with my hands. Otherwise it feels like I’m going to tear myself apart.” 

Her face softens. 

“I understand.”

The air between them falls silent again, and so he moves to take another drag, figuring the topic has been dropped. But on his exhale, Sonia opens her mouth to speak. 

“I used to memorize their names,” she laments. If he squints, Hinata thinks he can see a sad smile cast across her face. “My subjects. I spent hours poring over each and every one, committing them to memory. That way, I could feel an even greater despair when I killed them, as though I had lost a close friend.” 

“Jesus,” Hinata breathes. “Sonia, that’s-“

“Horrible?” Her grin falters, regret tugging the corners of her mouth down. But as always, her eyes are bright, even in the low light provided by the moon and stars. “Very much so. I must always keep my mind preoccupied, or else I start to recall their names. To mourn over every precious life I’ve taken,” her hand falls atop his own, the one clenched tightly around the crumbling cigarette, and she squeezes in reassurance. “So I understand. The need to keep busy. I understand.”

“Right.” Hinata nods. The warmth of a hand against his own so much more comforting than the burn of ashes against his lungs. And he snuffs the cigarette out in the sand. “Right.” 


End file.
